


Must Be Love

by jumpforjo



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Pregnancy Scares, The whole thing is happy, Trans Character, Trans Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov's Past, it's Not Tragic lads, the pregnancy scare is Not yuuri btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 03:56:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12424536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpforjo/pseuds/jumpforjo
Summary: I think my dog is pregernet??? How can i tell and when can i start noticing she is???Or, the unofficial guide to Viktor Nikiforov's UnTragic backstory and his relationship with man's best friend.





	Must Be Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yuripaws](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuripaws/gifts).



> i had a crack talk with vicky on twitter about viktor worrying that makkachin is pregnant when she gets fat  
> and  
> well  
> procrastination station sure does shit out fanfiction, and so do my apparently strong feelings about viktor's upbringing  
> big thanks to omer for the beta read!

There are few things in this world that mean as much to Viktor Nikiforov as his beloved poodle. He’s had her since he was 15, on the brink of 16, and as he pulled away from his family, moving in with Yakov and Lilia, his parents bought her as a gift to keep him company, delighting in the frequent video calls where Viktor did nothing but show her off. To him, she became his family embodied, the connection between him and his parents as his training regiment became busier and busier. She was the constant bridge, the reason to call his mom because- isn’t she amazing? She learned another trick!

As a puppy, she loved the smells of the ointments he used on his feet- what used to be quiet moments as he bandaged his bruises now filled with laughter and kisses in the form of a very enthusiastic ball of fluff. Even Yakov loved her- begrudgingly so, but he did. Lilia… tolerated her, but that was practically adoration from the ballet coach.

As his career advanced, she was there the first time he didn’t make the podium- and she was there the first time that he topped it. Her fur was well conditioned with tears and chapstick kisses, the only constant in Viktor’s ever changing life.

At the ripe age of 19, Yakov and Lilia stopped speaking. It was sudden for Viktor who had been away the night their big fight happened, unsure of how two people couldn’t love each other anymore. It went on for a week before Yakov told Viktor that they would be house hunting tomorrow, because obviously Viktor would go with him and not Lilia. That was the only explanation they gave, and Makkachin dutifully pranced alongside them as they went searching, sniffing out yards, running excitedly through the halls of each place as if to say- _no- wait- this house it my favorite!_

A year later, Viktor had a delayed stroke of rebellion, and trashed his choreography and music a month before the start of the competitive season, found an apartment, and moved out. He was done having the flow of life dictate things, and decided to take things into his own hands- to pick his own theme, be in charge of his own choreography and music. He even called his tailor to cancel his costume and schedule an appointment to decide something else. Within a week, the ball was rolling and his apartment near the rink was all lined up.

The first night he moved in, Viktor cut his hair. Makkachin bit at the falling strands as he chopped them off, ending up covered in silver over her curly brown fur and _desperately_ in need of a bath. Glancing in the mirror- well- it was terrible. He didn’t know how to cut hair, and clearly didn’t have a direction he was headed when he started. Makkachin licked at his face as he sat on the floor of his unfinished apartment and scheduled an appoint with a too-expensive hair stylist to fix the mess.

She accompanied him to the appointment, irritating the barber, but barking excitedly when Viktor asked her how he looked. Yakov - to put it lightly- lost his shit when Viktor arrived at the rink, but Viktor felt freer than he had since he joined international competition. The next week, his mother visited, let him know he was growing into _such_ a handsome young man, and helped him shop for furniture, even buying Makkachin a bed with her own money. His father was working and couldn’t make it, but video called them when they were finished setting up, tearing up at how mature their little boy had become. His mother cooked what could only be described as a vat of borscht- _you need leftovers, Vitya! You can’t cook! How will you feed yourself when I’m not here to do it? This should tide you for at least a month..._ And they stayed in, sharing a bottle of wine and watching soap operas before she needed to head back home.

Eventually, Makkachin was also the first one to kiss Yuuri Katsuki. And the first one to sleep with him. Viktor would say he wasn’t jealous of his dog but it would be a blatant lie and she knew him too well. She entered Japan the same way she’d toured houses and apartments, headfirst and with the excitement of a puppy, tearing through the hallways of the inn and exploring each corner of Hasetsu on their daily runs. She helped Yuuri open up the same way she’d done for Viktor, occupying Yuuri’s hands while he spoke, giving him a place to look that wasn’t Viktor when wordes were hard. If Viktor thought he was in love with that boy before, the way Makkachin attached herself to him assured it. Hell, she even sat, chin propped on Yuuri’s knees as he gave himself his hormone shots- the process taking twice as long but worth it if the laughter was anything to judge by.

Not only did she love Yuuri, though, she loved his whole family- she would keep Mari company when she cleaned the baths, and sit patiently by the door as Hiroko cooked. They passed jokes about teaching her to do chores too, and always came to the conclusion that she carried her weight by entertaining the guests. In the evenings she would plop her chin in Toshiya’s lap as he took a dinner break, enjoying the scraps he couldn’t help but offer.

Viktor’s own parents would ask where she was if Viktor video called at night- interrupting what had to be the 100th time they’d heard about Yuuri. Unfortunately for them, they quickly learned that the answer was _in Yuuri’s bed_ which only led to _more_ whining. Luckily his parents seemed to find it more endearing than vexing and were perhaps the sole reason Viktor held in kissing Yuuri until the Cup of China.

After that kiss, he and Yuuri became inseparable- even more than before, Yuuri sneaking into Viktor’s room every night because he “felt bad stealing Viktor’s dog” but the way he curled into Viktor’s warmth said otherwise. If Viktor ever thought he knew happiness before, he was wrong because happiness was waking up with his dog at his feet, his Yuuri in his arms, and the smell of fresh cooked breakfast wafting up through the paper walls of the Inn.

* * *

 

When they moved to Saint Petersburg, Viktor was terrified. Because of who he was as a person, Viktor had barely fallen off the train as far as physical fitness, but he was behind in his technical practice as well as, well, choreography. The two week turnaround for Russian Nationals was brutal, and he beat Yuri by a fraction of a point, not even approaching one of his own records. Yuuri scraped gold at the Japanese nationals, and moved a week after.

In preparation, Makkachin dutifully followed him as he deep cleaned and rearranged the apartment, dragging all her toys out every time he put them away and sat patiently every time Viktor tugged her into his arms as he suppressed his panic. Sure, they’d been living together for almost a year, but it was always in Yuuri’s comfort zone- how would he react to being thrust into Viktor’s world? What if Viktor competing put too much stress on their relationship? What is it was detrimental to Yuuri’s development that Viktor’s attention was split between coaching and competing?

The night Yuuri arrived, he slogged through takeaway dinner, then passed out with Makkachin on the couch while Viktor did dishes. Smiling fondly, Viktor scooped his fiance off the couch and carried him to bed, Makkachin immediately taking her designated spot at the foot of the bed. In that moment, he knew that things would turn out okay. It took a few weeks, but they fell into a routine the same way they had at Hasetsu, synching up their rink schedules, Yuuri took over the cooking and Viktor always cleaned with a smile.

It was, without a doubt, absolute bliss.

A few weeks later, Viktor’s mother visited the same way she had to Viktor’s first apartment, although this time his father tagged along. He served as translator between them and Yuuri as his mother made more Borscht and Yuuri continued to be perfect as he was wont to do. His parents adored him- of course- and Viktor decided that he’d found his destined path.

Within a month, however, Makkachin seemed… different. Not as if she was sick or- Viktor stopped that train of thought. But she seemed… bigger. Rounder. Even after her biweekly grooming appointment. She even seemed lazier, spending more of her time curled up on Yuuri’s lap than playing with her toys or bounding around the apartment. While she could be coaxed to play, she didn’t seem to seek it out.

Once he noticed the change in behaviour, _everything_ seemed different. Did she used to nest that much? Was she seeking out more alone time than usual? Was that always her favorite treat? He felt like he’d never met his dog before. He was afraid to vent his concerns to Yuuri- he didn’t want to worry his fiance over nothing, but he didn’t know quite what to do.

The lack of venting, however, was short-lived, one short google search of her symptoms later had him convinced-

“Yuuri! Zolotse- I think Makkachin is pregnant- I  don’t know how! She’s so old… and she hasn’t seen any other dogs, but she is!” His darling pooch was in his lap, tongue lolling out of her mouth as Viktor gave her tummy rubs.

“Preg- Viktor…” Yuuri squinted from where he was stretching on the floor, an adorable crease forming between his brows. “Viktor- isn’t she spayed?”

“Well- yes- but maybe it didn’t work? Or they did it wrong? But look at her stomach, Yuuri! And- and she’s been so lazy! She’s pregnant! I don’t know how to check… or what to do… I guess a vet would know-” His rambling was abruptly cut off by a gentle, smiling pair of lips against his own. He hadn’t even seen Yuuri rise from the floor in his panic, and was shocked to have his fiance appear in front of him so readily.  

“You’re ridiculous.” That wasn’t an answer to Viktor’s question _at all_.

“Yuuri~!” He protested, regretfully pulling away from the kiss with a pout. “She’s pregnant! Look at her stomach! Feel it!” Yuuri at least indulged him in that, patting the blissfully unaware dog gently. Without answering, though, he laughed before leaning in and kissing Viktor _again_ , dotting pecks along his lips and up over his nose and cheeks. “That’s- Yuuri!”

Concern tugged at his features- something he tried to avoid at all costs because his 12 step skin routine could only counteract so much, and he had no interest in looking like Yakov or Lilia in his old age. “Yuuri! She has to be!” His fiance was quiet a moment, leaning down to press a kiss to Makkachin’s nose (and receive several more in return).

“Viktor- Vitya. She’s not pregnant.” He said it so confidently- Viktor loved when his Yuuri was confident. His eyes always sparkled and a smile tugged at his lips, always leaving Viktor utterly besotted. “She’s spayed- that’s impossible. I think she’s just getting fat.”

Gasping, Viktor covered his precious, incredible, perfect dog’s ears. How dare he! Viktor couldn’t believe he trusted Yuuri- _loved_ him! Gazing down, Makkachin did the perfect, adorable thing where she stretched her paws just a bit- requesting more tummy scratches. He mulled over Yuuri’s _terrible_ theory, poking at her- weren’t pregnant bellies supposed to be firm? She was incredibly squishy….

Maybe, as per usual, his fiance was right.

Yuuri waited patiently as Viktor worked through the information, scratching Makkachin behind the ears the way she loved so much. “She does… feel… soft.” He admitted quietly, and immediately Yuuri’s lips found their way to Viktor’s forehead, pressing a long, smiling kiss there.

“She’s old, Viktor.” There was a beat of silence between them- it wasn’t something either of them liked thinking about. Makkachin, however, didn’t take well to the sudden silence or the pause in her pets, barking at them and smacking Viktor in the face with her paw. The tenseness passed immediately, covered up in laughter, kisses all around, and cooing that didn’t even make sense.

“I’ll stop feeding her so many scraps.” Yuuri assured him, not bothering to look away from the poodle.

Viktor, however, shook his head vigorously. “Let her have them, she deserves them.” His words were soft, sentimental. This was the happiest he’d ever been, and he’d hate to do anything but pay it forward to his dog- especially at her age. He owed it to her, for years of companionship, for all she’d been through with him.

Viktor Nikiforov was thoroughly convinced that she was the best dog- if Yuuri was his soulmate as a person, she was his soulmate as a poodle. Not a day went by that she didn’t offer her unconditional love, that she didn’t wake him up with kisses and curl up to him to lull him to sleep. She’d accepted Yuuri into her life so readily- and how could he not feel like he belonged when she so obviously saw him as part of the family. She’d even been there for Yurio- before he got his cat, on late nights when he spent the night at Viktor’s because they had an early flight and he didn’t want to admit that international competitions made him nervous. She’d lay in his lap, staying still as he told Viktor how he didn’t _like_ stupid dogs, despite the way his hands rhythmically moved through her fur like a lifeline.

There would never be a better dog in the whole world, and Viktor knew it in his heart. So if she wanted scraps of meat, cheese, and even broccoli that made her gassy, she could have it all. He’d been spoiling her for years, and had no intention of stopping now. Going quiet, he gathered her up in his arms, face set at a decided neutral. Yuuri, his beautiful, wonderful fiance, sensed the changed, immediately getting up to get her one of her favorite bones- a rawhide thing with dried chicken- giving it to her before collapsing on the couch next to Viktor. Draping himself over Viktor’s side, he gave her a few unnoticed scratches.

“She’s a good dog,” He mumbled, head falling to rest on Viktor’s shoulder.

“The best.” Viktor agreed quietly, one hand stroking her back as his other snaked around Yuuri’s waist. Reaching for the remote, Yuuri turned on something on the TV as quiet background noise before properly melting into Viktor’s embrace. Within the hour, they fell asleep there, not waking up until Makkachin scratched at the door, asking to be let out for her nightly business before they went to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! you can fine me on twitter and tumblr @ jumpforjo! kudos and comments always welcomed!


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